


The Colloquium

by stitchy



Series: The Matriarchal Star Wars Redux You Always Wanted [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Finn POV, Force-Sensitive Finn, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5886811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitchy/pseuds/stitchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn takes a mission with Poe and Rey that forces him to confront his fear of returning to the First Order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Colloquium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarMaple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarMaple/gifts).



> Written for Sarah- who knows a good space!gag when she sees one.
> 
> Beta'ed by StarMaple, my partner in crime!  
> PSA: Betas are great! If you don't have one when you write, solicit one on your blog! If you don't write/aren't too busy writing at the moment, offer to beta for others! It makes a good community and great fic :)

      Supposedly the First Order programmed dreaming out of their stormtroopers, as did the Empire before them- but Finn dreams. He always has. In most of his First Order dreams FN-2187 was one in _millions_ , but not in the way people from the Resistance tell him now, kindly and with compliment. Back then, in most of his dreams he was a masked and faceless stormtrooper, even to himself. Sometimes, though- sometimes Finn would visit worlds he’d never been to before. Sandy ones- where his feet suck into the sand, or a lush forest planet filled with ancient ruins. Since stealing himself away from the First Order he can put names to some of these places. He dreams aboard the _Finalizer_ less and less, and best of all- he isn’t a faceless no one anymore.

      “Buddy, wake up! Finn!” calls a voice, close by and bright. Even before he opens his eyes, he can hear the smile.

      “I’m up, I’m up!” Finn sits up like a shot, reeling around to see Poe hobble across the quarters in one boot, trying to simultaneously pull on the second and scarf down his toast. If it was a call to stations, Finn knows, Poe wouldn’t even bother with the toast. So that can only mean- “She’s back? Rey’s back!” he nearly falls out of his bunk, scrambling to the floor and ducking his head underneath to find his own boots. Rey only managed a handful of breaks from her training to come and visit the base- he wasn’t going to be late to see her.

      Apparently, BB-8 threatened Poe with bodily harm if she wasn’t made immediately aware of Rey’s return, so as soon as they round her up from her nightly station the three of them make their way to the hangar at lightspeed. Finn is bursting with a thousand questions and trying to decide which to ask first. Will Rey be staying longer this time? Is Master Luke going to let them visit the new temple? Is she a full Jedi yet and can he help? He pulls up short when he enters the hangar.

      There is Rey, cloaked and captivating and striding towards them from a... _T4 Lambda class shuttle_? The sight of a First Order vessel before him turns his blood to ice and his feet freeze in place. Finn looks around but no one else in the landing area seems particularly distressed by the sight.

      “Welcome back, Rey!” Poe gets to Rey first and throws an arm around her shoulders when BB-8 nearly bowls her over, hooting excitedly.

      “Glad to see you’re still in one piece, Dameron!” She throws her arms around him and laughs, then drops to her knees to give BB-8 a hearty greeting too. The droid trills merrily.

      “I can’t make any promises about _that_ , but you and I will get our chance to catch up,” she promises BB-8.

      “Is this hunk of junk a souvenir for me?” Poe asks drily, thumbing towards the shuttle. “You shouldn’t have. Really.”

      If you ask Finn, she really, _really_ shouldn’t have. It’s all wrong to have a ship like that in this place.

      “This is the _Colloquium_ \- my master thought the General might be able to make use of it,” she explains, pulling Poe along to come meet Finn, BB-8 trailing behind her and cooing like a particularly love-struck pittin.

      Finn shakes off his shock and with outstretched arms he hurries forward to meet her.

      “Finn!” Rey hugs him tight enough to pick him up off the ground for several moments, her months of physical training brimming over into friendly feats of strength.

      “I forgot you aren’t actually a tiny blue lady who visits the computer,” Finn laughs in surprise. It’s strange to see her face again after all this time. Over the past year he’d seen more of her in hologram form than in the flesh- and _that_ Rey wasn’t much for hugging. He never had the experience of missing someone over abstract distances before now, so he’s exhilarated by the end of their separation.

      Eager to put some distance between himself and the shuttle, Finn suggests that the four of them make their way to the the mess hall since it _is_ breakfast time, by the reckoning of his stomach. Rey appreciates the reprieve from Only Food She’s Caught Herself, and regales them with tales of training with Master Luke and the latest antics of the _Millennium Falcon_ ’s new crew. Her re-enactment of one her hyperspace exploits draws a bit of attention from the X-Wing pilots milling about. They try to give her the hard sell on why she’d want to join their ranks but Rey just shrugs. Training in the ways of the Force is plenty thrilling at the moment, Finn assumes, but that doesn’t stop them.

      “You haven’t lived til you’ve flown a mag field in one of these birds,” says one pilot.

      “-if she could stand to give up her fancy sword!” says another.

      “I used to play Jedi when I was a kid, so anytime you want to swap, I’ve been practicing my lightsaber sounds,” Poe says with a grin.

      Finn laughs at the thought, but feels certain Rey could do whatever she liked. “You could do both, couldn’t you?”

      “Master Luke did,” she agrees, squaring away her utensils then getting up to return her plate to the kitchen. BB-8 follows her, smitten.

      Poe turns to Finn, dipping his head close to whisper. “In the hangar BB-8 offered her spare charging station to Rey if she wanted to come be roommates with us,” he shares. Something about the way Poe leans into him makes Finn’s heart squeeze and the woozy sensation erupts into laughter.

      They’re both still giggling when Rey drops back into her seat across the table from them, eyebrow raised. “And how’ve _you_ two been getting on?” she asks in a pointed sort of way- though Finn has no idea what she means. BB-8 blats in accusation. Rey sighs.

      Poe doesn’t seem to manage any more response than an inexplicable blush, so Finn switches gears entirely. “We should let you check in with the General,” he remembers.

  

      General Organa greets Rey with a benevolence that seems in excess of the typical way she interacts with allies and officers. Though Finn has always got along well with the General he can’t imagine hugging her, which Rey does without hesitance. If he had a better handle on what it was to be ‘motherly’ he might have applied the word, but it isn’t his area of expertise. Rey gives the General a number of items on behalf of her master.

      “He’s always asking me to find a ‘safe place’ for things,” the General sighs, tucking several shiny objects into a vault beside her command console. “And what does he think I’m going to do with a Lambda shuttle? Take a First Order Admiral on shore leave?”

      “Actually, I have an idea about that, General,” says Poe.

      “Oh really?” General Organa smiles like this is not a surprise. “Finn, would you set up Rey with the quartermaster while the Commander dazzles me with what I somehow suspect will be your next mission?”

Finn lights up, the possibility of adventure with his friends on the horizon. “Absolutely! Yes, General.”

 

      Furnished with additional bedding, a cot, and a set of kitchen goods, they set Rey up in a spare corner of the room Finn shares with Poe and BB-8. Finn sits on his bunk and, while she unpacks what little she brought with her, Rey explains how Master Luke managed to come into possession of the _Colloquium_.

      “I wasn’t sure if I was seeing things, or if everyone had lost their minds and forgot to be terrified a First Order ship had just landed when I saw that shuttle in the hangar, I’ll tell you.” Finn can feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end just thinking about it. Rey frowns thoughtfully.

      “I didn’t think of that,” she admits. “I have less and less reason to think about Jakku everyday, but I can’t imagine the Order is ever entirely out of mind when you go into battle with them for a living.”

      “Not really, no,” Finn agrees. Sometimes he’ll go weeks at a time, but then there will be a report of heavy casualty- or he’ll be asked to clarify schematics of an Order complex for the officers, and then all he can think about for days is what it would be like if he was still on the other side.

      “I’ve been meaning to ask, but-” Rey pauses and recalibrates her question. “Chewbacca said you threw your old captain into a compactor at Starkiller Base.”

      It’s not a question at all, but Finn nods. “So many crazy things happened that day, I can’t believe _that’s_ what Chewie remembers. I mean. Trashing Phasma was pretty funny at the time.” He considers that maybe from Chewbacca’s point of view it was the easiest event to remember, after all. It keeps him from laughing, which he is extremely grateful for, because Rey is frowning again and he’s not spectacular at socializing yet, but he does know that laughing at frowning people is not cool.

      “But you knew her?”

      Finn puzzles. He knew Phasma for years, but he’s pretty sure he knows the General better, and they’ve only spoken alone maybe three times! “We weren’t, like, buddies- but she was the one who oversaw my training my whole life, if that counts.”

      “Like a mother?” Rey asks.

      The thought does not compute. As foreign of a concept as Mothers are to Finn, he's pretty sure that _this_ is not an acceptable definition. He gets the feeling Rey’s questions have some kind of agenda, but he can’t imagine what. He’s certainly not cut up about never seeing people from his old squad again, so he shrugs. “She’s gone now. It’s not like we were gonna get together and exchange gifts on Life Day or anything.”

      Heralded by a chatter of beeps, Poe slides the door open and enters the room. “All settled in?”

      Rey waves a magnanimous arm at her meager belongings as though they were riches and BB-8 rushes to join her where she’s seated on the edge of her cot. With a look of mock-betrayal directed at his droid Poe takes a seat next to Finn.

      “Rey says she and Master Luke sweet talked-”

      “Stole?” Poe guesses.

      “- _sweet talked_ a Kubazian into just giving them the shuttle!” Finn exclaims.

      “So. Stole it.”

      Rey tilts her head and grimaces. “It was more merciful than if the First Order had caught him with it?”

      “That’s certainly true,” Poe admits. “And this is why we are not going to dress like Kubaz when we fly the thing...”

 

      With the First Order’s center of operations still recovering from the destruction of Starkiller Base, several of the largest star destroyers in the fleet are in dry dock at a recently commandeered supply planet with a half erected security grid. Some time ago, the Resistance had reprogrammed a collection of First Order spy-droids that would look entirely at home on their native star destroyers, but had yet to devise a way to deploy them. With the generous gift of a T4 Lambda-class shuttle, they now had the perfect camouflage vehicle to cozy their way up to as many ships as their forged credentials would allow.

      In the cargo bay of the _Colloquium_ , Rey fusses with some of the Resistance’s collection of stormtrooper armor trying to mix and match to fit her less-than-stormtrooper-length legs, while Finn helps Poe buckle into a breastplate and pauldrons. Having something to do helps him put aside his apprehension about being in the shuttle at all- the whole design of the thing reminds him too much of the rooms he spent his former life in.

      “Is a T4 another box to check on your ‘Must Fly’ list?” he asks Poe. If Poe will vouch for it, maybe being in a First Order ship again will stop setting his teeth on edge.

      “A twin-laser personnel shuttle that turns like a kriffin’ comet?” Poe gasps, scandalized. “I’m a little embarrassed to be flying the thing. No where near as sexy as a stolen TIE fighter.” Poe winks and Finn’s face feels a little hot.

      “Oh,” he says eloquently. He supposes it is silly to imagine that a boxy 20-seater craft would be any fun to maneuver- from experience he knows they aren’t much fun to ride in, either.

      “But- it’s a perfect disguise for this operation. Speaking of which!” Poe holds up each forearm in turn so Finn can latch the gauntlets into place.

      Once he has both his friends suited up to the neck, Finn claps into his own (well, his _borrowed_ armor) in what’s practically split seconds compared to the ages required to get two first-timers in gear. Rey looks somewhere between astonished and annoyed considering she had to jerryrig half of her armor to fit her tiny frame. She’s still trying to cram her lightsaber into her chestplate for safekeeping.

      Poe shakes his head and folds his arms, leaning conspiratorially towards Rey. “He’s always like that. I let him borrow my clothes and he’s always got the best looking outfit on before I can even decide if it’s too hot for an undershirt.”

      Finn grins proudly, though he wonders if maybe he shouldn’t with the way Rey rolls her eyes before lifting her helmet to bring it down over her head. She yelps and jumps back a meter.

      “Oof, caught on my hair!”

      Poe looks at him, but Finn can only shrug, never having encountered this difficulty. “Just braid it so it fits. Like the General,” he suggests.

      “ _What_ it?” Rey helplessly struggles against the restrictive fit of her armored shoulders, unable to do anything to the back of her head. Poe steps around to unfasten the knots she keeps her hair in and deftly twines it into a single plait that will be more comfortable.

      “I forget you were raised by gonk droids,” he says gently. “Lucky for you, my mother was practically half wookiee.”

      With Rey and Poe finally suited up, Finn tries to give them a last minute crash-course on posture and how to hold their blasters so they blend in. They decide to all identify as ET squad on the first, fourth, and fifth ships, and GD squad on the rest. Finn explains how to respond to various simple requests in the event they get separated. His eyes keep drifting to the third helmet on the bench while he explains how to attract as little attention as possible. How to be unseen. How to be _no one_.

      “Let me do the talking,” he says with half-hearted certainty. They nod their helmeted heads, and he picks up his own and just stares at it in defeat, like it has an inevitable winning move at dejarik, but he still has to play a turn.

      “Buddy?” Poe takes off his helmet and takes Finn’s from his hands, as well. His expression is worried and tender and he doesn’t look away from Finn even when he speaks to Rey. “Can you make sure BB-8 is done with the pre-flight checklist?”

      “Of course,” she agrees, heading toward the cockpit.

      Poe tucks one helmet under his arm so he has a free hand to put on Finn’s shoulder. There’s an unwavering look on his face like he’s been expecting this moment. Honestly, Finn’s been edgey ever since the shuttle arrived and he and Poe have been so in tune lately, Poe’s probably been waiting for an opportunity to see what’s up. “Listen,” he starts, waiting for Finn to make eye contact, “I know it’s not just a disguise to you. It probably feels like you’re back-sliding, but you’re not.”

      “I keep thinking, what if I get captured and-” Poe laughs, but not unkindly. He steps closer to Finn.

      “You think we would let that happen? BB-8 would tear me apart if we came back without you! And don’t tell the General, but I’d sooner enlist with the First Order; then at least I can look after you.”

      Finn looks at Poe, who is already warping his brain by being dressed in stormtrooper armor, at all. “I guess,” he says warily. As much as he jokes, Poe doesn’t lie to Finn. If he says he’ll be beside Finn through any outcome, he means it. The sentiment of Poe’s promise goes a long way toward getting the knot in his gut to loosen, at least.

      Poe bites his lip and gauges the look of worry that Finn is sure still dominates his face. “They’re not gonna catch you, you’re not gonna get reconditioned, and when we get home we can burn the armor and dance on the ashes. All right, buddy?” A weight lifts, somewhere inside his chest.

      “I don’t really need to put the helmet on right now anyway,” Finn says, as casual as he can. He tries to smile back for Poe’s sake.

      “Yeah. We’ve got a few hours,” Poe agrees, handing the helmet back to him. “And even with it on, I’ll still see _you_.” He slaps Finn’s shoulder and goes to join Rey and BB-8 in the cockpit.

 

      Planting the spy-droids onto the first three star destroyers goes off without a hitch. Finn’s nerves are eased by the company of his friends and they make minimal contact with anyone from the First Order. Even when they do, it's mostly over the hailing systems. On the fourth ship Finn and Poe get held up by a bit of bad timing. They arrive during a shift change, and without a predescribed path to follow, they find themselves going upstream of a current of troopers. When they finally locate Rey again she’s at a command console on the hangar level with her helmet off. Her hands flit across the computer between a security program and detention records.

      When Finn reads over her shoulder, he can’t help himself. “Planning on jailbreaking someone, Rey?”

      “That’s how Finn makes friends,” quips Poe.

      Rey skips through a few more files, narrowing her eyes. “Oh please!”

      “I know, I know,” Poe says, gesturing between himself and Finn. “This kind of lightning can only be bottled once.” Even though the helmets, Finn can imagine his grin.

      “I found her,” declares Rey, turning to them in excitement.

      Finn leans in to read the screen. “Found who?” His eyes scan the file, and it’s certainly nothing like what he was expecting. “ _Phasma_?”

      “Who’s that?”

      “My old captain...”

      “ And someone Master Luke tried to train, before me- or Kylo Ren, for that matter,” Rey adds.

      This is something that doesn’t even to begin to register in Finn’s brain. Wouldn’t he know? Wouldn’t everyone know? “Are you telling me Phasma’s a JEDI?”

      Rey shakes her head. “She ran off before they could find out, actually. But she’s a clone,” Rey states flatly. “She’s a clone of the Emperor.”

      The room is silent for several moments but for the hum of engines. Finn is still a little fuzzy on the New Republic’s version of history, but even _he_ knows the galaxy has seen few people as powerful and nasty as the late Emperor Palpatine.

      “Force,” Poe swears. “Did... did the First Order think they could just start over with her?”

      “It looks like the plan has changed, if they were,” Rey says, pointing to the monitor. “She’s slated for execution for her complicity in the destruction of the Starkiller Base.” Rey lifts her chin with determination. “I want to free her.”

      Finn’s head is still reeling from the fact of Phasma’s identity, but this? How is this even an option? He might know more level headed people than Rey, but he never would have expected so wild a suggestion from her.

      “Are you crazy? She’ll kill us!”

      Poe lifts a hand. “Not to pull rank or anything, but as a commander I would point out- Phasma _will_ have intelligence valuable to the Resistance. If the First Order’s done with her, she might even thank us.”

      “Don’t hold your breath!”

      Rey turns to Finn, her face as earnest as ever. “I’ve felt her in the Force, and I think it’s right.”

      Clinging to the last shred of hope he isn’t hearing what he’s hearing, Finn shakes his head. “This is not the plan we came here with...”

      “Finn, have you ever wondered if there might be others like you in the First Order? What if we could give someone else the chance to refuse to be a part of it?” Poe asks.

      As wary as he is of Phasma herself, the thought is appealing. Of course Finn would like to hope that there are others sleepwalking through their lives like he was- that the evil doesn't run so deep that they can never awake. Finn sighs. “Then we should try.”

      Rey chuckles, and waves her hands at their confusion. “Nothing, nothing. Just something Master Luke says.” She grabs one of each of their hands, eye widened with an infectious smile. “You’ll help me, then?”

      “Yes!” They all agree, laughing in giddy anticipation with Rey bouncing on her toes until they run out of momentum waiting for something to happen. Right. They have to actually go deeper into the belly of the ship and devise a way to release Phasma. Just deciding it doesn’t make it so.

      “I hope you have an idea for getting into Terminal Detention,” points out Finn. He knows where it is and what problems they’re going to run into, the first of which is unavoidable. “Regular troopers have no reason to enter unless they’re already escorting a prisoner.”

 

      The first guard stationed on the Main Detention level is barely interested in the two stormtroopers marching a small woman clad in First Order issue blacks. He doesn’t even stop to verify her transfer number, even though they made sure to find a similar profile in the detention records. Finn has the feeling the guard’s relief hadn’t shown up during the shift change, and he’s impatient to be through with them. Still, it’s better not to volunteer their forged information, so Finn is forced to kick Poe in the shin when he clears his throat to speak.

      Between them Rey walks serenely, head dipped and hands folded as though in contrition. The second guard at the Terminal Detention access stops them.

      “Prisoner transfer number?”

      “4T-799-Omicron,” Finn reports.

      “Main Detention admittance?”

      Either Finn’s heart stops or it jumps someplace it’s not supposed to be- probably his mouth, because he can’t make words come out at first. “The prisoner wasn’t assigned one,” he blurts.

      “4T-799, you said?” The guard punches it into the computer again. That’s it, Finn knows. That’s that last chance they’ll get before he calls someone else. Most stormtroopers will run a code twice to save themselves the embarrassment of calling in a superior over a number they’ve mistyped, and a diligent reentry of the number is not going to save them. The number they plucked from the computer was never going to come up clean under close inspection.

      Finn turns the safety off on his blaster and lets it fall to the floor, shooting off at a nearby conduit and showering them in sparks. The surprised guard ducks to avoid the danger and Finn tackles for the guard’s legs, grabbing both their blasters off the floor while the voices from at least two other stormtroopers are heard entering the corridor.

      In a sweep of blue, Rey draws her lightsaber and deflects the fire of the new arrivals. She moves in a way Finn’s never had the privilege to see before, having been unconscious at Starkiller Base. Her body is in tune with things that haven’t happened yet, cutting through the chaos with grace. Even her braided hair whips about as elegantly as her blade.

      “Chewbacca made this sound so much simpler,” Rey mutters, taking them out with their own ricocheted blasts, never flinching when a third and fourth appear from within the detention level.

      Finn nails one, and Poe another, then the three of them charge down to the last corridor before their destination. They skid to a stop at the door where two more troopers appear.

      “Hands up!” demands one of them, shortly before Rey makes certain that he’ll never put _both_ hands in the air ever again. With the room clear Finn turns to his friends, all a little breathless, but unscathed. There are a number of doors to cells, one marked with the designation they are looking for. It’s up to Rey and the computer now.

      Finn looks over his shoulder, back at the way they came. He doesn’t like to separate from his little squad, but he knows it won’t do to leave a trail that leads directly to their efforts to do something that is highly questionable... “I’m gonna make that guard scram back at Main Detention. I’ll try and keep people out of the block until you’ve got her.” Rey nods and launches herself at a computer and Poe knocks his shoulder, catching his hesitation to leave the room.

      “See you in a minute,” says Poe.

      On his way back down the corridor to the level entry Finn does his best to pull bodies out of sight, not that it would buy them very much time. At least when the guard from before peeks in the direction Finn appears from, he seems unperturbed.

      “You are relieved,” Finn says simply.

      “But ER-9090?”

      Finn takes a wild shot in the dark. Hopefully there’s only one Kylo Ren in the galaxy, but every cruiser in the First Order must have a notorious and temperamental boss aboard. “He ran afoul of an officer. Something to do with a lost accuracy report...”

      “Better go file mine,” contemplates the guard, twisting a bit on the spot where he stands, apprehensive.

      “Yep.” Finn gives him a curt nod, assumes the guard post, and watches him disappear towards the elevators.

      He has no idea how long it will take Rey and Poe to subdue Phasma, or what that might entail. It wouldn’t make sense for her to have been imprisoned in armor, he supposes, so theoretically it should be easier than usual if it’s possible at all- so he waits. He stares at a wall. There’s nothing to listen to but his breathing circulating through a mask for the first time in a long while and it makes his whole brain feel itchy. It occurs to Finn that there is no one around to see him take off his helmet, and once it occurs to him, he wants it. _Badly_. But people are Depending On Him, so he pushes the urge aside. He grips his blaster tight and nearly jumps through the ceiling when there’s a tap on his shoulder, certain he’s been discovered and the First Order is reclaiming him.

      “Finn, we got her,” says Poe’s steady voice. He steps up to flank the other side of the door, turning his head to Finn like it’s possible to make eye contact, and Finn takes a deep breath. Soon enough the sound of only one pair of footfalls comes up behind them. Finn wasn’t quite sure how they’re were going to make their way back to hangar with Phasma kicking and screaming all the way, so he is pleasantly surprised when Rey appears with her in a faint over her slim shoulders.

      “Ready to go?” she asks, nonchalant.

      Finn balks at her lightsaber hanging conspicuously off her belt. “You can’t just carry that _out and about_ on a First Order ship,” he says, pointing.

      “I think the jig is up if they see us now,” she says, giving Phasma a heft. Yes, there is something about an unconscious six foot tall woman that really does it in for stealth.

      “I’ll scout ahead a few meters, you bring up the back?” Poe suggests, and Finn nods.

      They have a few false starts down populated halls while they make their way toward the elevators, but as long as they don’t prematurely raise the alarm none of them minds a few extra lefts to make a safe right. Between Finn’s familiarity with the ship’s routines, Rey’s quick thinking, and Poe’s sheer nerve they manage to make their way to a corridor adjacent to the hangar with the _Colloquium_ in it before coming to a snag they can’t take a detour around. Rey peeks her head around the corner, careful not to let her load loom into view of anyone happening to look back in their direction.

      “Are there supposed to be that many of them there?” Rey asks, pulling back. Finn knows she’s worried that they have tipped off the ship’s crew. In front of the bay there are at least ten stormtroopers standing at attention and he knows there will be at least another dozen inside to contend with as well.

      “I think if they knew there was a Jedi running loose they would do something a little more radical,” Finn says, hoping his instincts are right. A battle droid or two wouldn’t go amiss. Still- three against twenty wasn’t odds he particularly liked.

      “Is this the only way in? There’s gotta be a service tube or something,” Poe reasons.

      Finn shakes his head. “Grates. Even if there weren’t - dragging Phasma out on the other side would spoil any element of surprise, for sure.”

      Rey straightens up, sharp. She must sense something, or hear something they can’t. “Someone’s coming.” She shifts Phasma on her shoulders, both arms tightening in preparation to bolt.

      Finn shoots a look at Poe, out of ideas. “Then we’ll _make_ a door,” Poe declares, snapping Rey’s lightsaber off her belt and igniting it. “I have always wanted to do that,” he admits. Rey looks surprised but allows it, brow lifting in anticipation of what he’ll do next.

      Poe plunges the blade into the wall between them and the hangar, dragging the sizzling edge through it until there’s a shape big enough to pass through, and kicks it in. Finn has no doubt that Poe will have to tell BB-8 all about it as soon as they get aboard the shuttle again.

      From inside the hangar Finn can already hear blasterfire begin, and grits his teeth. He watches Poe step through the hole, lightsaber still drawn in his off hand and blaster in the other so he can offer Rey cover while she comes through. Finn follows up behind her, hell bent on picking off anyone who dares to take a shot. In a less-graceful-than-Rey blue blur Poe swings through a handful of troopers and even manages to deflect one blast with his pilot’s reflexes. They run as hard as they can for the _Colloquium_ , and BB-8 opens the shuttle hatch from within. While Rey is trudging up the ramp first, Finn looks back to Poe, checking that he’s close behind. Reinforcements from elsewhere have begun to pile into the hangar, and it’s time to leave.

      “Poe!” Finn rebels against the stormtrooper protocol drummed into him since birth and obeys his own instinct to rush the few steps to Poe and lead him to safety.  
  
      Too late.

      One of the dozen reinforcements blasts Poe through the shoulder and he staggers back, only saved from falling to the floor by Finn rushing up behind him. He loops one arm around Poe’s middle, letting his head loll back onto his shoulder while he reaches to grab the dropped lightsaber with the other. “Hang on, buddy- just hang on,” he mutters, over and over while he drags Poe back into the shuttle.

      Finn smashes the control panel to shut the hatch behind them before he throws off his helmet and shouts to Rey that she’ll have to operate them out after all. BB-8 screeches alarm, and Finn doesn’t need to understand binary to be certain she’s questioning why Poe isn’t joining them in the cockpit.

      Phasma’s unarmored, unconscious form is slumped in the opposite corner of the compartment and Finn thinks the only thing in the galaxy that could keep him from marveling at how suddenly small she seems is his overwhelming fear for Poe. Finn pulls down one of the bunks hinged into the wall and places him on it as gently as he can despite his shaking and fast breathing and Rey’s rough departure from the enemy hangar. Poe groans, his pain palpable. It’ll be a few minutes before they can get out of the atmosphere and take the jump to hyperspace, so Finn uses the time before he needs to grab a seat to strip Poe’s helmet and busted armor.

      “Is this the only medkit we have?” he hollers, to no one in particular. There’s bacta patches, a hypospray (that looks empty), and some vacuum wrap, so he does what he can with the wound, all the while telling Poe how admirably he defended both he and Rey. How brave he was. Finn makes sure to keep his touch as soothing as his words, the same way he knows Poe would handle him if he was hurt. The bacta must give him some relief, because at last Poe opens his eyes from the grimace his face has been contorted in all this time.

      “Hey there,” Finn says, soft. He seals the vacuum wrap gingerly, then reaches out to brush the hair off Poe’s forehead, out of his eyes. “Good to see you again.”

      “I see you.” Poe smiles weakly.

      The constricting feeling that had wrapped itself around Finn’s throat starts to relax, and Finn finds himself able to take long, deep breaths again.

      “Finn, you’re going to want to take a seat,” Rey warns from the cockpit. He knows he ought to go strap in, but dreads leaving Poe behind.

      “Just got my moon knocked outta orbit, buddy, that’s all,” Poe wheezes, reassuring him as though he weren’t the wounded one. “Don’t worry about me. Just make sure BB-8 is minding her manners for Rey.”

      Finn laughs and gives Poe’s temple one last caress.

 

      When the engines kick into gear for hyperspace Finn lets his head fall back on the headrest, exhaling dramatically.

      “I hope she’s worth it,” Finn says. Then he realizes how it might sound like he’s blaming Rey, and rushes on, “-You got this?”

      Rey nods, making calculations and adjustments. So sure. Finn wants to be sure like that. He wants this to be something good. And maybe it seems sort of terrible right now, but eventually they’ll look back and it will be part of a wild story they tell about how they all saved the galaxy, once again.

      He remembers he still has Rey’s lightsaber, so he holds it out to return it and she latches it onto her belt again, it’s work done for the day.

      “We’ll egress just outside the Hydian Way,” she explains. “Slip off a couple parsecs early so we don’t spook anyone in the Malastare system.”

      Finn nods. BB-8 chatters with some commentary on that then swings her domed head around, fixing Finn in her sights and blurting what is undoubtedly a demand for information.

      “You can go see him in a few minutes,” Rey says, trying to spare Finn BB-8’s distress. She reaches out to pat the droid’s sensor and is answered with a slightly calmer beep. “How’s he looking?” Rey twists in her seat, so she can keep the console in the corner of her eye but be present with him.

      “Poe’s pretty tough. A little rest and then a trip to medbay when we get back to base, I’m sure he’ll be right as Kamino rain.”

      Rey smiles kindly. “And you’re okay?”

      “I’ll be better when we’ve got Phasma in Resistance custody,” Finn says, eyes slipping out the cockpit door to where he can see one of Phasma’s booted feet, strewn out in confirmation.

      “There’s something else,” Rey starts. With a long pause she closes her eyes, like she’s gathering peace and strength. Finn does the same, hoping he can draw from her, or maybe the Force will bestow some steadiness on him in sympathy. “Master Luke told me-- she’s my mother.”

      Finn’s eyes fly open, and he tries to stand up but is stopped short by his harness. “Your _what_!?”

      All the time that Finn has known Rey, he has known that she is alone. She was left behind on Jakku and spent years believing that someone was coming back for her, only finally giving up on this all-consuming hope right about the time that they met. In the same way that he sometimes idly wonders about his own parents (probably long dead, if the First Order had anything to do with it) he sometimes tries to imagine parents for Rey. He doesn’t have much to go on- but when he stretches his imagination he dreams up a powerful warrior, or an exiled monarch, or another orphan like Rey who managed to make something of themselves without parents.

      “I need to make peace with this and all the darkness in it before I can become a Jedi knight.” Rey reaches out a hand to take Finn’s, and squeezes it tight. “Thank you for helping me.”

      Finn thinks back to the conversation they had before they left. When Rey had asked if Phasma watching over his life had meant she was like a mother to him. At the time it had turned his stomach, to imagine calling her management of his soldiering anything like ‘parenting’- but now he’s thinking it had more to do with Rey stretching her definition of family. He looks back at her sweet face and knows, regardless of whatever shadow Phasma loomed over his life, he would be honored to share that definition for Rey’s sake. He’s never had a sister before.

      There’s a thunk from the back of the transport, then Poe’s feeble cough. “Uhhh, Rey, I think your pal is waking up,” he groans.

      Rey whips around in her seat. “Cuff her!”

      “Do we even have binders?” Finn asks, unbuckling. He _just_ patched Poe up, if Phasma hurts one hair on his head before he can get back there... “We didn’t plan on taking a prisoner, remember?”

      “Sit on her?” Rey suggests. Finn gets up to investigate, thinking about how _this_ is why plans are good. Why didn’t he think to take the binders they put on Rey earlier?

      Rey calls after him, “I’m sorry I’ve never incapacitated someone with the Force before, I have no idea what kind of shelf life a Force-faint has!”

      The T4 was not made for comfort at hyperspeed. Finn steps across the threshold between the cockpit and the cargo bay unsteadily and _very stupidly_ , he thinks, as he is tackled by a recovered Phasma who had been hovering just behind the portal. “Aggh!” He spits, “Rey!”

      In a blur, Phasma throws him across the cargo bay, and dives into the cockpit, closing the access. The wind is knocked out of his lungs from being tossed with such force.

      “Rey!” he wheezes, pulling himself up off the floor and rushing to the cabin door. The controls won’t open, even when he screams to BB-8 for an override. Then he hears the unmistakable suck of an airlock followed by the stuttering of engines.

      Behind him, Poe struggles to sit up. “What the hell just happened?” Finn tries to cross the cabin, but slips as the cut off engines fail to compensate and the whole compartment spins out.

      “Phasma lifeboated the cockpit with Rey and BB-8!” he shouts. He knows that both sections of the _Colloquium_ will fall out of hyperspace now- the cockpit can still travel at sub-lightspeed, but their aft section will drift aimlessly without a way to steer it. They’ve been stranded. 

 

      Finn tells Poe everything he remembers about Rey’s flight plan- what levers he saw flipped, what numbers were lit up on which meters- anything that Poe can combine with the view of the stars outside the window. Poe checks his chrono to establish their flight time. He paces, counting under his breath until he seems to arrive at an answer.

      “We’re not _nowhere_ , exactly. Sullust system,” he figures. “At sub-lightspeed we could’ve gotten within spitting distance of a shipping lane, that’s probably what the cockpit managed.” But _they_ don’t even have that.

      “What about us?” Finn hovers just behind Poe, watching him look out the window, using his fingers on the glass to measure out the distance. “It’s possible we could drift into a lane in four or five standard days, if we don’t get picked up by a smuggler first.”

      Waiting for a benevolent smuggler is probably a wildly optimistic scenario, Finn knows. There’s any number of middle options between that and washing up on a hyperlane in a week. They’re in the remnants of a First Order vessel wearing First Order uniforms- there are exactly zero people in the galaxy interested in rescuing anonymous stormtroopers. Well. Present company excluded.

      Worst case scenario: another First Order ship comes along and executes them for being Resistance scum impersonating their ranks. Suddenly Finn realizes that may be the _most_ likely of all outcomes- “What if Phasma heads back to the First Order, or reports in?”

      He reaches out for Poe’s good arm, and he turns around to look at Finn. “They were going to execute her, I doubt she’d go back. And as for giving them our location? We have to believe Rey won’t let that happen,” Poe tells him. It sounds right when he lays it out like that.

      Finn leans against the compartment wall and closes his eyes. “I can’t believe I just let her take Rey,” Finn mumbles.

      He knows she can hold her own, and technically he didn’t abandon her- but it stings. He gave his word to her and in his estimation he has not completed his promise. And Rey’s revelations about his old captain? Clones of Dark Force Users and Estranged Parents are bizarre variations of concepts he does not remotely understand to begin with. It’s hard to make sense of how much danger she’s in.

      Poe leans against the wall next to him. "Honestly, It’s Phasma I feel sorry for. I can't believe we let Rey and BB-8 take _her_ , she dosen’t stand a chance!"

      That makes Finn feel a little bit better. He’ll give Rey credit that she will do everything in her power to come out on top. She would expect the same of them- and that bolsters him a bit. Reassured, he tries to imagine what Rey would do if their situations were reversed.

      “We ought to get you back in proper armor,” he says, looking at Poe’s state of disarray. “If we have any trouble with another ship, I want you to be safe.”

      Poe grins at him. “Feeling protective?”

      “Well I got you this far, didn’t I?” Finn smiles back apologetically. Poe’s had his mission compromised, been blasted and then promptly marooned- Finn will have to figure out how to make it up to him at some point. He takes Poe by his good hand and leads him to the lockers in the back of the compartment where they can find a new shoulder guard and breastplate.

      “My hero,” Poe says, without a trace of irony.

      Finn inspects the spare pieces of armor they have, making sure they’re compatible with what Poe’s already wearing and snapping them into place. Poe’s weary gaze follows his hands while they make sure the environmental seals are secure.

      “If we see a friendly- well. A _relatively_ friendly ship,” Poe clarifies, “-we can jettison something from the airlock to get their attention.”

      That’s a terrific idea, so once he’s sure Poe is outfitted properly Finn combs the compartment for something with some visibility. There’s very little cargo to choose from that they wouldn’t miss, but while staring blankly at the wall Finn suddenly realizes the bunks hinged to it are removable. They find a wrench to dismantle one of the four bunks and use a blaster to scorch a distress message on the underside for good measure. With their plan in place, Finn pulls down another bunk.

      “And now...You are going to get some rest, Dameron.”

      He hasn’t forgotten that Poe was shot today and has yet to get an hour’s rest. There are dark circles underneath Poe’s eyes, and Finn feels qualified by all the time they spend together to confirm that Poe is shifting his weight from foot to foot twice as frequently as he normally does at this standard hour. Finn can power through an all-nighter without batting an eye and Poe may have caught his second wind- but he won’t be tricked into letting Poe keep pace with him until they’re rescued.

      “I can keep a look out-” stammers Poe.

      Finn holds up a hand in oath. “I got this. You? Sleep.”

      Poe stalks across the cabin toward him and the bunk, a petulant twist to his lips. “Only if you tuck me in,” he says, grinning as he passes.

      Finn helps Poe hoist himself onto the bunk, unsure what action the instinct to linger just a moment longer is prompting. With a groan but very little commentary (proving how right Finn was to order him to sleep) Poe settles himself and shuts his eyes.

 

      Outside of the window, space passes by slower than a dewback uphill on Hoth. The compartment drifts along with only the momentum put on it by falling out of hyperspace. It might go faster if Finn got out and pushed, honestly. He begins to think that the mind numbing repetition of countless drills and working sanitation for the First Order was all in preparation for the boredom of watching one star pass the window every standard hour. When he glances back at Poe, sleeping soundly, he figures that at least if things are boring, they are safe.

      Finn’s legs begin to cramp from standing in one place too long, and since he’s not in the First Order anymore, despite all appearances to the contrary, he is at liberty to pace the cabin and loosen up a bit. He walks the diagonal of the space five times, then the perimeter eight times- slowing to a tip toe when he passes Poe so he can listen for any difficulty breathing and check that his color isn’t getting any worse. On his ninth circuit he glances out the window and freezes.

      An L30 freighter with red detailing and carbon scoring on its dorsal is nearing their position, and it is most definitely _not_ stormtrooper friendly, going by the insignia stamped on its hull.

      “Poe!” Finn keeps his eyes on the freighter, refusing to let it out of his sight. There’s a groan and a creak of the bunk as Poe dismounts and comes over to investigate.

      “I was having the loveliest dream,” he says, squinting over Finn’s shoulder with his good hand settling on the back of Finn’s waist. “That looks like a Vem scavenger.” Then Poe must see the X’ed trooper helmets painted on the ship, too- he straightens up like a shot.

      “They are _not_ gonna like the look of us,” says Finn, backing away from the window and bumping into Poe, who draws back with him until they’re against the opposite wall. The freighter gets larger and larger in the window

      “No,” Poe agrees. “They might just pass us by if we don’t jettison the bunk...”

      “They might board us anyway.” He has no idea what kind of numbers they’d be up against, and he doesn’t want to risk an already injured Poe to find out.

      Finn looks around for something to trigger an idea, and sees their two stormtrooper helmets cozied up under Poe’s bunk. He dives under to snatch them up and presses one into Poe’s hands, already formulating a plan.

      “If they board us we’ll have a minute while they engage the hatch,” he explains, running over to the lockers and grabbing the duffle full of rations- without which it won’t matter if they survive a boarding. “With the containment from the armor we could last as long as an hour. We just have to pop out the old cabin door airlock and hang on until they’re done!”

      There’s a metallic thunk as the L30’s docking gear engages with the main hatch. With no time to lose, Finn jams his helmet over his head, happy to hear the hiss of the functioning containment system inside. Before he has time to react, Poe flings his good arm around Finn’s neck and squeezes tight, and when he lets go Finn is almost certain he hears the smack of lips, even through his helmet. He feels a little fluttery.

      “Shall we?” Poe asks, helmeted and already tapping into the access for the airlock.

      Even though it's his plan and he _mostly_ trusts the ability of the armor, Finn sucks in a deep breath and grabs the rim of the door, waiting for depressurization and the sickening weightlessness of open space. Finn exits first, making sure he’s got his footing secure on the lip of the portal so he can help Poe, who promptly shuts the airlock behind them. His fingers tighten their hold as he looks up past the edge of the shuttle into the infinite blackness all around him. The held breath finally starts to burn his lungs and he lets it out in a mighty whoosh. Poe must hear it over the comms, because he turns to look at Finn.

      “Did you-?” Finn doesn’t quite know what to ask. It’s not as though it would be _unwelcome_ for Poe to have kissed his cheek before they stepped out the airlock. If anything- he might have preferred Poe had done it before he had put on his helmet...

      “Make the bunk before the company showed up? Stars. I forgot,” says Poe, as if it’s the most casual thing. He heaves as dramatic and as expressive a shrug as a one-armed, helmeted man clinging to the hull of a marooned shuttle can.

      Finn snorts in laughter, and then he’s absolutely _certain_ he would have preferred it if Poe had kissed him before he put on the helmet. He stares at Poe, as though there might be some kind of explanation on the impassive features of his mask for why this hasn’t occurred to him before. All he can do is smile a dopey little smile under his own mask and hope that Poe can tell that it would be worth trying again.

      “Do you feel that?” Poe asks, moving his head as though he could put his ear to the hull and listen.

      Since the bag full of rations is with them, there’s very little for the Vem to ransack, it seems- because Finn can feel the transferred vibrations of the L30’s engines starting up again in their own shuttle’s hull. He grips tighter on to the edge of the airlock and waits for the visual cue of the freighter moving away.

      Instead, there’s a violent lurch as the freighter momentarily accelerates in the wrong direction after disengaging from their shuttle, knocking them hard. Finn’s eyes clench shut- shocked, his body waiting for terrible impact.

      “Finn!”

      “Kriffin’ laserbrained freighter pilot-” swears Finn, before finally looking over his shoulder where Poe has lost his footing and begun to drift away from the shuttle, flailing. “POE!” Finn shouts, feeling like he’s been sabered through the gut.

      He nearly retches in his helmet, but pushes the feeling aside and starts to shimmy his way closer then clamps his boots together on either side of the door frame so he can let go and reach out to Poe. He swipes, once, twice- and manages to grab one of his hands and sharply pulls him in. “Where do you think you’re going, buddy!?” Finn says, as Poe’s anguished howl fills his comms and he realizes he just wrenched the arm Poe was blasted in earlier.

      Swearing and apologizing profusely, Finn brings Poe close to his side and grapples back onto the hull of the _Colloquium_ to punch open the cabin door controls. When they get out of the airlock, Finn spills them both onto the floor of the re-pressurized cabin.

      “Don’t scare me like that again!” Finn cries, pulling off his own helmet and then Poe’s. His heart races while his hands run frantically across Poe’s armor, unwilling to let go yet. He can’t let him drift away. Finn sits himself against one of the compartment walls and positions Poe half facing him, supporting his back against his knee, which Poe obliges.

      “Deal,” he huffs. “I’ll try and stay rescued for a minute.” His brow is pulled tight in pain, chest rapidly rising and falling- but he’s smiling at Finn through it. His injured arm hangs away from them at a distressing angle, so Finn folds it into Poe’s lap then curls his arms around Poe carefully, so he knows he’s protected. He wants to be steady for him, like Poe always is for him.

      Finn looks around at the cabin. They didn’t bring much with them to begin with, but the scavengers found the one thing that mattered. “It looks like they took the medkit, buddy. I’m sorry.”

      “My arm’s still there, right?” Poe asks, his voice cheerful though he’s still working on regulating his breath. Finn nods. All of him is still here, thank the stars. Poe licks his lips. “That’s nice. Be nicer if I could hold you back, though,” he grins.

      “Poe.” Finn pulls him closer, holding on tight for the both of them. Poe utters a little grunt; half relief, half exhaustion. His curly head falls to rest on Finn’s shoulder, sweaty but safe. Finn turns his nose into Poe’s brow, still worried. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asks.

      “Maybe one thing, for the both our sakes,” Poe laughs.

      Confused, Finn pulls back to look at Poe, who tips his head back. Finn can feel the air of Poe’s breath on his face, warm and drawing him nearer. The tender crook of his smile is so close, and Finn thinks, so beautiful. Poe has an extra bit of dimple to his smile, unique to him- probably the first real smile Finn ever saw in his whole life. It’s certainly his favorite one. He can’t help but mirror it, looking at Poe now. Finn retrieves one of his arms so he can trace his fingers there, and isn’t surprised at all to discover his lips follow, mapping the corners. Poe sighs, and Finn shifts to kiss his lips, dry but soft. His heart thrills, and he wraps his hand around the back of Poe’s neck and keeps kissing him until he’s breathless again like he was coming out of the airlock, though this time the fear is gone. They kiss like it’s a steady hand on a shoulder- it’s a comfort, it’s instinct, it’s something that can’t be separated from how Finn and Poe behave to one another and it will always be a fact.

      “Is that what you meant?” Finn asks, their mouths such a small distance apart that his lips still brush Poe’s as he speaks. For once Poe, who always has a retort, is speechless. That in itself is something of a statement. He simply leans in again and presses Finn with another kiss. It takes Finn by surprise how anything could be more spectacular than that first kiss, but this one has the benefit of a test flight. He moves to deepen it and pile it full of all his intentions for many more like it.

      It must fortify Poe, because he manages to gather control of his limbs again. Finn helps Poe steady his injured arm while he draws himself up onto his knees and topples Finn’s bent legs so he can sit astride them. Their armor makes it about as intimate as a embracing a protocol droid- at least until Poe dips his head again and drags his open lip under Finn’s jaw.

      “I thought I might lose my rations when-”

      Poe just hums in agreement and mouths several wet kisses up and down Finn’s neck, where his pulse is surely jumping. He has more to say- he wants to tell Poe precisely how important he is and will always to him, forever. He wants to make a list of every single moment he now knows was a signpost pointing towards this. The ability to form sentences comes under attack- Poe breathes Finn’s name, the name he _gave_ him into his ear like it's the most precious secret, capable of reigniting suns and hanging new moons. Poe’s stubbled cheek nuzzles into his and Finn’s scalp tingles like it’s trying to jumpstart his brain with an electric shock.

      “I knew you’d get me out of it,” Poe says, leaning back and placing his good hand over Finn’s chest. They really ought to do something about that- both the fact that Poe’s down an arm, and his habit for getting into mortal peril on Finn’s watch. Poe kisses him lightly again, then bends to touch their foreheads together and it’s an impossible thing to imagine leaving this little pocket of a moment when he’s so content inside of it.

      He covers Poe’s hand with his own, his powers of speech returning. “I’m always going to look after you, Poe.”

      Ever since they first came crashing into each other’s lives, he can hardly look away. He knows Poe by his exhilarated laugh, by his flying, by the never-missed opportunities for kindness and hope. Who wouldn’t put everything on the line to help a man like that? He certainly couldn’t stop himself.

      Finn wraps one arm around Poe and shoves himself up with the other, making use of his strength to take Poe along for the ride. Poe unfolds himself, always just as ready to follow Finn’s lead as he is to clear his path. Leaning back into the wall, Finn draws Poe in, hands hooked into the armor he’d never had a reason to admire before- but any garment with Poe inside it is exercising an unfair advantage, really. This must be why Finn’s always stealing his clothes.

      Poe crowds against him, slipping a knee between his legs to pin him to the wall so he can’t escape. Running his hands along Poe’s body and up his neck, he finally docks them in Poe’s hair just as their mouths slide together again. It puts a fire in his ribcage this time- like he could consume Poe in the sheer heat of what he feels. When Poe teases his bottom lip with a sweep of tongue Finn gives his curls a little tug and delights in the moan that escapes, chases it. Poe opens up to him with enthusiasm, all sighs and soft lips. Even through his gloves Finn can sense a little tremble. He gives Poe’s hair another tug and takes his invitation to explore, darting his tongue to taste like Poe had before. Poe tries to bring both his arms around Finn and sputters.

      “Ugh- forgot about that,” he winces, peeking at Finn through one eye. Finn deposits a soothing kiss on his forehead, then loops an arm behind and under Poe’s knees and takes him into his arms. Poe laughs, as Finn crosses the compartment with him. “Are you whisking me off to bunk?”

      “Well, we don’t have a medbay, exactly.” Finn seats Poe on the bunk from before and shakes a well-meaning but patronizing finger at him to _behave_.

      He collects the duffle full of rations and finds the utensils inside, selecting the knife. It’s easy enough to slice the strap of the bag free, then cut away some of the lining from the bag’s interior. It’s a little more complicated to figure out how to combine them into a sling for Poe’s arm, but with some trial and error he manages to invent something.

      “I should have known. Whatever the setbacks- you _will_ complete the mission,” says Poe.

      The support of the sling puts him at ease. Now Poe doesn’t have to strain so much and he rolls his neck, getting out the kinks. It makes some of his hair fall into his face and Finn instantly reaches out to smooth it back, now that he’s allowed to just reach out and touch him like this. Poe leans into his hand like a pet, and drops a kiss into the palm before Finn pulls it away to cover a yawn.

      “Oh! Hmff,” Finn excuses himself. Poe slides off the bunk and uses his one arm to turn Finn around and back him into the bunk. It’s no surprise he can trust Poe to steer even with one arm, really.

      “You really ought to get some rest, Finn- I’ll keep an eye out. It’s been nearly a standard day since I woke you up to meet Rey,” reasons Poe, guiding him to sit. Finn obeys and swings the rest of himself into the bunk, rolling on to his side so he can curl one arm into a pillow.

      “I hope she’s okay.” It had been one thing after another since the cockpit had detached. He didn’t mean to forget that she was out there somewhere- probably in danger.

      Poe rests his hand on the side of Finn’s face, his thumb running back and forth across his cheek. “BB-8 will look after Rey,” he assures him, bending to kiss Finn’s cheek.

      “Yeah?” Finn yawns again.

      “Yeah, buddy. That’s love for you.”

 

      When Finn dreams, he’s not anywhere he recognizes. The structures are low and metallic, building a sprawling but featureless city- in the way that dreams do. He walks along a speedway, unhurried. The people that crowd the city are busy with their own lives, completely disinterested in him even though he’s still wearing stormtrooper armor. A friendly, burbling sound gets his attention, and he ducks around a corner to follow it. Up ahead of him, a droid turns to the woman it is travelling with, beeping in question. It’s _Rey_ , happy and whole with BB-8 beside her. Finn tries to run up and meet her, but his feet don’t answer to his intentions. It’s enough just to be able to follow them at a distance. He watches them make an arrangement with a merchant and carry on. _Safe_.

      “Well I’ll be.”

      The voice stirs him, and Finn tries to stay with the dream but it escapes him, slipping away as slowly but surely as the stars outside their shuttle. With one eye cracked open Finn sees Poe standing in front of the window, his weight leaned onto one arm and his hand pressed to the glass. Underneath it the familiar disc shape of the _Millennium Falcon_ blooms, making its approach. Poe turns around to come wake him, but Finn is already pushing off the bunk.

      “She did it!” he exclaims, unsure exactly what had been done. Rescue was enough- he’s not one to run extensive diagnostics on a free droid. Finn hurries over, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

      At the window Poe threads his arm around Finn’s waist, bumping their hips together and giving him a sidelong grin. “Rey must have made the same calculations to find our position,” he says. “I knew I liked that kid.”

      It’s good to have something tangible to corroborate his dream of Rey’s safety- he won’t be truly settled until he sees or hears from her himself- but this lifts his heart. He turns on his heel and lifts Poe a foot off the floor of the shuttle in his excitement.

      Poe laughs in surprise. “Are you eager to be discovered in a compromising position?” He beams down at Finn then bends to kiss the top of his head. Finn lets him slither back down, still circled in his arms. He barely lets Poe’s feet touch the ground before he leans in to kiss him. He can’t stop smiling long enough to do it properly. “I guess so,” Poe answers himself between nudging kisses.

When the sound of the _Falcon’s_ engagers rattles the shuttle Finn pulls back to admire a red-lipped Poe. “You haven’t ever been on the legendary _Millennium Falcon_ , have you?” He knows how Poe feels about careful maintenance of one’s spacecraft. The words ‘Fanatical’ and ‘Uncompromising’ come to mind. Poe shakes his head, a bit bewildered. “Amazing,” Finn laughs, dropping one more kiss on his cheek. “And I don’t even have to pay to witness this.”

 

       They meet Chewbacca and his new co-pilot Zarro once they’re aboard the _Falcon_. With his great hairy arms Chewbacca scoops them close in greeting, howling his relief- as far as Finn can tell. It doesn’t seem like Poe is particularly fluent in Shyriiwook, either. When Chewbacca lets go they both look around, hoping for Rey or BB-8 to come rushing out from another corridor.

      “Sorry,” Zarro apologizes, scrubbing her short, messy hair with one hand. “We still gotta get them from some Sluissi shipyard or another.” She gets a look at Poe’s sling and motions for them to follow her. “Apparently Rey managed to tap out some commands to BB-8 in binary- got word to us,” she explains. “I think we could probably hail her at this range- do you want to try?"

      Chewbacca gives Finn access to the comms in the cockpit while Zarro acquaints Poe with a more robust medkit.

      Finn listens to the static, hoping Rey answers soon so he can enjoy his rescue with a clear head.

      “Finn? Finn! Oh, stars- I wasn’t sure if I had the right weight for the shuttle- I didn’t figure for fuel expenditure at all-” she rattles on in one breath, the unmistakable beeping of BB-8 in the background.

      “No! You found us just fine. We’re coming for you now- what _happened_?” he asks- he couldn’t care less about intergalactic calculations.

      Rey utters something to BB-8 he can’t hear. “I told her who I was, Finn.” She pauses, and he’s sure there’s more to be said about it. Something about disappointment. “She didn’t want to go back to the First Order, but she wasn’t interested in throwing her lot in with me either.”

      “ _Yet_ ,” Finn tells her, sure of it. She might not be the mother Rey had held out for all these years- might never be, but who could meet Rey and not be on her side?

      “She left us on a shipyard and sold the engine for the credits to hire a lift out of the system.” Finn can hear BB-8 chatter something uncharitable, in comment. Chewbacca barks a laugh.

      “Ok. Ok- well, hang on. We’ll be there soon,” he promises, and turns the comms back to Chewbacca, who has started to go on unintelligibly about something or another- probably asking for more specific landmarks. Finn heaves a sigh of relief, and when Zarro comes back to the cockpit he goes to check on Poe.

      He finds him lounging in a bunk with a datapad on his knee that he chucks aside when he sees Finn.

      “I’ll probably be laid up for a bit- plenty of time to write my report later,” he says, budging over and patting the space beside him. Now that they don’t need to be ready to go gallivanting in open space at moment’s notice, Finn realizes he can ditch the armor he’s still wearing. Poe watches him strip, clucking a little- “I know you’re eager to get rid of it- but I’ll have you know you are startlingly handsome, even as a trooper,” he laughs. “I certainly thought so the first time I saw you.”

      It shocks Finn a little, that something so distressing to him as his stormtrooper’s uniform can be overwritten with a pleasant meaning for Poe. Maybe with time he can learn to think of it that way too.

      “Doesn’t make for very comfortable bunk sharing, though, does it?” he grins.

      He’s pleased to see Poe is more relaxed now that he’s had a hypospray and a change of bandage, and climbs in next to him.

      “Can I still live in your quarters when we get back?” Finn asks. It’s something he’s been wondering about, trying to imagine how things might change now that he knows how badly he wants to hold Poe and be held _by_   him. Maybe every single night forever, please. He nestles an arm over Poe so he can start right now.

      “Hmm? Why would I kick you out, buddy?” He covers Finn’s hand and rubs it a bit. Finn loves the way Poe has of saying things in a tone that doesn’t embarrass his inexperience- he just wants to understand what Finn’s thinking.

      “Well, all the people I know who... who feel about eachother like I feel about you-”

      “Couples,” Poe defines, helpfully.

      “I don’t know any couples who live together,” says Finn, his face falling. Poe laughs.

      “How many couples are you actually aware of?” he asks, squeezing his hand.

      Finn thinks. “Well, The General and Han-”

      “-extenuating circumstances. Besides, they were our neighbors on Yavin 4 for at least ten years.” Poe raises an eyebrow in challenge, waiting for another example.

      “Dis doesn’t live on base with Snap?”

      “Because Dis has the farm to take care of, off world,” Poe points out. “Next?” Finn bites his lip and tries to think of another example, but comes up short. Poe chuckles. “There are at least eight couples shacked up in the P9 Complex alone. And you _know_ Nien Nunb and Verlaine!”

      Finn slaps his own forehead. “I thought they were just buddies!” Apparently he’s not very observant, though this sheds a new light on all the hand holding he’s witnessed. He rolls a bit so he can hide his face in Poe’s neck and feel foolish. Poe pets his head and does his best not to laugh in a way that jars his injury.

      “You’re adorable,” he sighs.

      “So I can stay with you and BB-8 for now?”

      Poe turns so he can kiss Finn’s forehead. “You can stay with me for _always_ , if you want. BB-8 might move out though,” he says, and Finn immediately whines. “Well, we are going to be _revoltingly_ in love. She’ll have to move in with Threepio and Artoo and they aren’t much better,” he laughs again.

      “Oh Force, are they a couple too?”

      “No wonder the First Order has to reproduce by clone- with their training you wouldn’t notice a romantic entanglement if it jumped on top of your bunk and kissed you senseless...”

      Finn is just about to take that as a suggestion when a hose from the ceiling pops out of its fitting and swings down into the cabin, spewing exhaust. Poe’s eye widen in shock and Finn pats his chest gently, slipping out of the bunk to take a look.

      “-And welcome to the legendary _Millennium Falcon_ , folks.”

 

Epilogue

 

      Finn flicks the switch on three more spy-droids in his arms and puts them on the floor one by one, giving their rears a little pat to get going. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he calls after them, watching them scuttle away and disappear into the corners of the ship.

      “That might be a bit too much latitude for a droid,” says Rey, beside him. Even with her face covered in her stormtrooper disguise he can guess there is a judgemental eyebrow in action.

      “Maybe they’ll go start a revolt or something- save us the trouble of toppling the First Order,” muses Poe.

      Finn laughs and glances down the corridor the droids have just vanished down- alarmed by the sudden appearance of a lone stormtrooper running at full speed down the hall. They all raise their blasters, but the unarmed trooper throws off his helmet and skids to a halt, hands in the air.

      “Are you Finn?” he pants, a manic look on his sweaty face. “Take me with you!”

      Poe sighs beside Finn. “We are getting a _reputation_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The Epilogue of this fic takes place chronologically during the 4th installment of this series "[Hearsay](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6533329)"!
> 
> [But what happened with Rey!?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6184219/chapters/14167771)  
>    
>   
> [art by me! stitchyarts on tumblr ](http://stitchyarts.tumblr.com/tagged/star%20wars)  
> 


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